The Ides of March
by Regency
Summary: AU. Contrary to Brooke's accusation, Ridge Forrester doesn't have crushes, he has muses. Katie is his new muse, and his last one. Companion to the March chapter of Vows (The Buildup).


Author: Regency

Title: The Ides of March

Pairing: implied Brooke/Ridge, Ridge/Katie UST

Summary: Contrary to Brooke's accusation, Ridge Forrester doesn't have crushes, he has muses. Katie is his new muse. Companion to the March chapter of Vows (The Buildup).

Author's Notes: This can be considered a missing scene for the Buildup. Since that story is from Katie's perspective, I thought it couldn't hurt to have at least one short to tell us what Ridge is up to then Katie isn't in earshot. You may want to re-read March of Vows because I don't duplicate events much, though there is some overlap.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, setting, or quotes recognizable as being from _The Bold & the Beautiful_. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. The poems quoted in this story are also the owners of their respective poets. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.

~!~

**March**

_This is the longest day and it's only ten-thirty._

Ridge was in an unusual mood in March. He'd been charged with designing a Cannes trousseau for the daughter of a studio executive. Her demands played to his strengths, power and delicacy poured into a single silhouette. _Should be easy._ Ridge breathed classic lines in taupe silk and mauve satin. He designed sweetheart necklines in his sleep. This, he could do. With Quinn Fuller tasked with equipping each design with the requisite baubles and jewel-encrusted charms, this young woman was determined to shine. _And so shine she shall._

It wasn't the drive to design that eluded Ridge this month, but the inspiration. He had met his client on three separate occasions; first, to make the arrangements and twice more for progress fittings. The outcome of each visit shifted by inches, unseated by her stringent pre-film festival dieting regimen. Ridge was something of a tailor by training, alterations were a fact of the trade that he wasn't prone to letting faze him. That said, the more he altered these gowns to suit the changing frame of his client, the less he believed they were meant for the woman who wore them. Something was wrong and it had been from the start.

This concern had woken him twice in the night and sent him sketching for hours in search of _this_ woman instead of the woman who had taken up residence in back of his mind since New Year's Eve. He had begun to flounder at what he did best because he was finding it impossible to be inspired by anybody else.

_Katie Logan, what are you doing to me?_

Ridge considered the drop waist on the teal and brass number he'd been tinkering with for the last twenty minutes. _Not quite Katie._ He had a mental list of styles that wouldn't suit her that he'd composed between the odd lunch meeting and coffee date. He was a designer, he had such a list for any woman he'd met more than twice. This was a gown that Caroline or Hope might dazzle in, or Ridge's young charge might. He marked it and set it aside to show his client at the day's fitting.

He reviewed the dresses already in their final stages for imperfections. The first was a blue racerback dress that boasted a plunging neckline, braided straps, and a full-length flared skirt.

The second was a modified Greco-Roman-style toga in ivory. Marchesa had made hay of the classic trend in bridal wear a few years back, but Ridge had plans to bring it back to evening. _It doesn't feel right._ He wasn't sure what it would take to change that.

There was a knock at his door and then Pam appeared. "I've got Brooke for you."

Ridge frowned and gestured for Pam to send her in. This was proving to be a trying month for what was left of their relationship. He wasn't blind to her attempts to recruit their friends and family into her campaign to rekindle their romance, and in another context, he'd be flattered to have a woman vie for his attention so tenaciously. He couldn't deny how good it felt to be wanted by her when their history was speckled with such denials. It was the casualties of Brooke's campaigns for his heart that failed to impress him anymore.

Brooke swept into his office carrying bags of takeout from _Il Giardino_.

Ridge rose to meet her. "Hey, what's this about?"

"It's about us."

Ridge shifted his weight and shut his sketchpad. "What about us?"

"We've waited months for this to feel right. Don't you think it's time we start _making_ it right?"

"I don't think that's down to me."

She had the good grace to look abashed.

"No, of course not. It's down to me. I've been brooding on your disappointment in me when I should have been showing you that I've changed. I know what I need to do now."

Brooke set about laying out place settings for each of them—food boxes, hard plastic utensils, and plastic champagne flutes. Ridge rubbed his face. Yeah, all right, he was a little charmed.

"What do you think you need to do?"

"Try."

She brought out a bottle wrapped in foil and, unwrapping it enough to uncover the top, popped the cork to let the bubbling nectar flow into their glasses. Ridge fought his inner critic and took the glass she offered him.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been working hard."

"The day isn't over yet." Noon was still an hour out.

"I think you should take a break and join me for lunch. Reward yourself for keeping your nose to grindstone."

_Doubt Rick would agree_, Ridge thought dourly in the confines of his mind.

"So what'd you bring?"

"Are you considering joining me?"

Ridge had had a late breakfast, he wasn't famished, but the thought it was only fair he let Brooke try talking him around. _Isn't that what I keep saying I want?_ That wasn't precisely it. _ I keep saying I want time._ He needed to manage his expectations better.

"I'll consider it if you make it worth my while." He gestured toward the takeout boxes.

"I know you so well." She popped the removable tops for each dish. "Pasta Pomodoro for me and penne arrabbiata for you."

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble, we could have gone out for lunch."

"It's effort. I'm making an effort to prove I'm serious about us getting back to where we need to be."

Ridge took a napkin to cover his lap. "You've been straightforward with me, even if I don't understand why you did what you did, I really appreciate that."

"It was better if you heard the truth from me. I wanted you to trust me, that's still what I want for that to happen, honesty has to be my personal policy."

"You really have changed, haven't you?"

Brooke beamed and he swore she lit up the room.

"I have. I'll prove it to you, I'll prove it to everyone, including Katie. You'll see."

Ridge felt a little of the tension in his shoulders ease.

"Give Katie time, she'll come around. She just needs to heal, y'know? These last couple of years haven't been the easiest for her."

He took a bite of his arrabiata, eating slower to let the fresh basil taste unfurl on his tongue. _Il Giardino never fails._

Brooke smiled her self-satisfied little smile that meant she knew she'd scored a point with him. He rolled his eyes in fondness.

"You don't need to worry about Katie. Look around you, she's come out ahead in all this. She got the CEO chair. She has full custody of Will. She even has you on her side. What more could she need?"

Ridge put off his next forkful. "I can't answer that. Which doesn't mean I wouldn't give it to her if I could."

"She doesn't need you to be her white knight and she wouldn't be happy to hear you think of her as a damsel in distress." Brooke sipped her champagne, crinkling her nose against the bubbles.

"I don't think of her as any such thing. She's my friend and that makes her problems my problems."

"Including me?"

_She's been waiting for that one._

"You're your own separate issue for both of us. I can't induce her to let you back into her confidence any more than she could do that for me. We're independent people capable of thinking for ourselves."

"The two of you have been inseparable since you came back. People are starting to talk."

"That's what people do to keep life interesting. They talk." Ridge took a drink.

Brooke sat forward as thought about to impart some supreme confidence and he instinctively leaned into listen.

"Reconciliation between Katie and Bill will be difficult if he has reason to think the two of you are an item."

Ridge couldn't keep his disgust from showing. He put down his glass in revulsion. "I don't care about Bill Spencer's feelings enough to let them change my behavior. Besides, those two are over. He's more interested in a future with you." He had ears and eyes all over L.A. He had Katie who told him just about everything and vice versa.

"Would you stake Katie's lifelong happiness on that?"

"Would you?"

Brooke speared a leafy green on her fork.

"I wasn't aware you held Katie in such high esteem."

Ridge permitted her obvious deflection.

"Why wouldn't I? She's an extraordinary woman."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a crush. I don't think we've had one discussion in months that where you didn't mention her."

"She's an important part of my life."

"She'd be delighted to hear you say that," Brooke gushed. "She's never made friends easily."

"Some people mistake introversion with a lack of anything to say. Katie's got opinions coming out of her ears."

"I'd know all about that. Since she was girl, she'd be quiet as a mouse until you got her going, then look out."

"I like that about her, it means she chooses her words carefully. Speaking rarely means that those occasions when she does speak out are all the more worth hearing."

"Donna was right, that is _some_ crush you've got there."

Ridge shook his head. "This isn't high school. I can express admiration for somebody without it meaning anything."

"Katie might not agree."

"Katie is as smart as they come. She knows how I feel about her."

"How _do_ you feel about my sister, Ridge?"

"I already told you—"

"You told me you admire her, but I've seen you show admiration and I've seen you infatuated. You need to be careful. My sister's been hurt enough."

Ridge pushed his plate away from him. "Okay, you need to understand something. I have no intention of hurting her. I love her, I care about her; I wouldn't do that."

Brooke's chewing slowed, slowing, slowing and then stopping altogether.

"You love her."

Ridge was up to his neck in a hole he'd been digging since New Year's, and he hadn't even realized he was holding the spade. _Where did that come from?_

"We've been family for years, of course I love her."

Brooke appeared to accept his reasoning, looping angel hair pasta around her fork instead of poking a bevy of holes in his poor rationale.

"You need to be prepared for her not to return your feelings. She's still wrapped up in Bill."

"You misunderstood me, Katie and I don't have that kind of relationship. We're friends."

"You have a way of transforming friendships into love affairs with very little warning."

"You know me well."

"I know you very well. So does Katie."

"This conversation has taken a weird turn. What are you saying exactly?"

"Our interludes with other people always end the same way. Maybe it's time we skipped the histrionics and got back together."

"I have to give it you, that was a subtle workaround. But I'm not there yet. I love you, but I'm not there."

"What will it take?"

"I couldn't tell you. I only know that us getting back together doesn't feel like the thing to do right now."

When a knock sounded at his door, Ridge thanked his visitor for their unparalleled timing.

_I can't do another argument._ Every part of this conversation was out of left field.

Pam appeared, her demeanor apologetic. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is somewhat urgent. Your Cannes fitting just called to cancel for today. She said she has an appointment with her 'dietician' that can't be missed. She wanted to move the fitting to next week."

Ridge furrowed his brow. He'd been hoping to use today to present new designs to her in lieu of the ones he'd deemed 'Too Katie' to pass muster for the more casually inclined woman. He'd have to start based on her previous measurements whilst leaving room for alterations.

"That's fine. Thanks."

"You also got a call from Katie. She wanted to know if you were free for coffee. I didn't realize you were going to be…occupied for this long, so I told her you would be. Should I call her back to cancel?"

"Ah, no. I need to talk to her anyway. Show her in when she gets here."

Pam nodded and left to return to her desk.

"I suppose that means no time for lunch."

"Not right now. I need to get some mockups together for Cannes even if she won't be putting in an appearance. I was planning to work through."

Brooke put on a glacial smile that left Ridge dreading their next conversation. "That's all right. Another time."

"Another time."

**…**

Katie was a breath of fresh air sweeping through his door after Brooke had gone.

"I brought your favorite with a dash of espresso." Katie had visited La Bocca, Ridge's favorite mom and pop coffee shop located near the Spencer offices. _Just what I needed._

"You read my mind, thank you." He inhaled the heady aroma of his Brazilian dark roast prepared in the French style and drank deeply. The zing of it woke him up, shot straight to his toes. "Angelique," he sighed. "She's the only person allowed to make me coffee."

"I thought nobody could do it for you after you lived in France."

"The owners are second-generation Italian, Angelique is here on a student visa from Loire. She's the exception." Ridge was known to get territorial about his baristas.

"She'll be glad to know that." So close on the heels of Brooke's inquisition, Ridge was quick to pick up on Katie's unspoken suggestion.

"She's a nice girl who's interested in fashion design. She likes to talk shop and she brews a hell of a brew."

"All the pretty girls flock to you, don't they?"

Ridge refrained from commenting. "Not that I'm not grateful for the energy boost, but what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I figured you'd be running on E on a Monday. I knew I could do with a break."

"You work your heart out, that's what happens."

"Hear, hear."

They tapped their paper cups together and drank to their busy, fulfilling lives. _I'm not as happy as I might be, but I'm happier than I was. How did this happen to me?_ He was thinking that he only had a couple of people to thank for that when he was struck by a realization.

"Can I ask a favor?"

Katie lapped up a dollop of foam stranded at the corner her mouth. "Depends on the favor."

Ridge's eyes lingered on her lips a beat longer than he intended. _This is Brooke crawling into my head._ He'd have to talk with her again later on to clear the air.

"You don't trust me."

"Forresters are unpredictable. You can never tell what they'll ask for."

"That's a smart move, hedging your bets." Katie deflected, putting the ball back in his court. "I have a client who was supposed to come in for an advanced fitting and she cancelled at the last minute. Would you be willing to stand in for her?" Ridge nodded to the pair of dressed mannequins standing in the corner of his office.

She continued sipping at her drink, considering. "Are we the same size?"

"Close enough, you're a little taller. I just want to judge the fall of the fabric and the fit, make sure the darts fall where they should."

"Sounds fun. Where do you want me?"

_A question for another time and a stronger drink._ He picked up his phone to call out.

"Pam, can you page Caroline? I think we're gonna need a hand."

**…**

Despite the tension between himself and Rick, Ridge had worked to retain an amicable relationship with Caroline. The creative future of this company was likely in her hands, he'd like to do what he could to nurture it in a positive direction. For her part, Caroline was eager to learn what he had to teach.

"All right, I want to get Katie into these two dresses. Can you take her to the showroom? It'll be easier to view them on the runway."

"That's the best way to see how it moves."

"Precisely."

Katie glanced from Ridge to Caroline. "Now I'm walking a runway?"

"It's just like walking down the street. I don't need Bryant Park, I need a woman who can walk in heels with a decent amount of grace."

Neither woman appeared overly impressed with his reasoning.

"I'll try not to let the compliments go to my head," Katie deadpanned, turning to gather her belongings.

_I'm more articulate than this._

"You know I don't mean it like that. You're perfect the way you are, that's why I want it to be you."

_What was in that coffee?_ Ridge couldn't afford to be any more honest today. But Katie was mollified.

"Careful, a girl could get used to this."

"You should."

It was Caroline's turn to look quizzically between Ridge and Katie. "If you want to get started, I can take you to the dressing room."

Katie lifted her coffee in mock salute before following Caroline out of his office.

Ridge was gathering up his notes from earlier fittings to take to the showroom when Rick leaned into his office.

"Meeting in five."

"We don't have a meeting scheduled."

"It's impromptu, the Fullers have news."

Ridge grunted, checking his watch. He wouldn't have Katie for long and she really was the best model for these dresses, never mind that they weren't hers namely.

"I don't have time right now. I have a fitting on the runway. I'll read the minutes later."

Rick propped himself on the doorframe, a sure sign of him digging in his heels and preparing to throw his weight.

"The meeting can move. As president, I should be reviewing your work. We can kill two birds with one stone."

_That could not be more inconvenient and that's Rick all over._ "Fine. Let's go."

Ridge could have done without the entourage that followed him to the showroom of the Forrester offices. As luck would have it, his father was away at a press event uptown, which meant Ridge would have one less critical opinion to contend with. Most everything Ridge knew he had learned from Eric, but this was different. Bad enough that Rick would stand in judgment, he couldn't bear for someone who would understand to see the passion in these designs.

His pale relief was further diluted when Brooke appeared with Hope and the Fullers in tow. He wasn't entirely sure if this was a staff meeting or a cocktail party anymore.

"Deal with all the other business and let me handle this."

"Don't worry, we won't get in your way."

'Since birth, Junior,' Ridge didn't say.

"Sure."

Most of the staff was already in the showroom when Ridge arrived. The place was bustling with employees setting up for a HFTF showing schedule for later in the day. They had buyers from Nordstrom's coming, along with buyers from a number of department stores. Ridge was not going to be the one to signal the dissonance. _Our brand identity is shot_. That wasn't his problem yet.

Ridge beckoned Quinn from her huddle with Hope and Maya before the powwow got underway to consult about his client's bespoke jewelry.

"How's the redesign going?" His client had decided that silver was passé and she longed for platinum _after_ all the pieces had been created. _Our bright young nightmare._

Quinn sighed. "It's going well enough. The work should be done in time for Cannes. I'm just wondering what to do with five grand in silver jewelry."

"Hold it for winter and we'll auction it off for charity during the Christmas season. Your stock is rising, count on it going for more than breakeven."

"You flatter me."

"I flatter everyone."

"Almost everyone."

Ridge grumbled, "Everyone I like." He squinted over Quinn's shoulder. "I think they're calling you back." Wyatt was gesticulating wildly in Ridge's opinion. _Is this his idea of subtlety?_ Ridge was suddenly glad only one Fuller was in charge of design aesthetics.

"We'll talk later," Quinn offered, and he nodded in reply. His 'later' was getting fuller all the time. Many of the couture clients who were slowly trickling back to Forrester were asking to work with him exclusively, which freed up the less experienced staff to assist in other areas, only to leave him grappling with an overflowing itinerary on a given day.

His discomfort wasn't alleviated by Brooke choosing to walk into the showroom right then. _I expected her to be out._ She caught his eye and waved. He mimicked the gesture with his sketchbook. _She'd look good in dark blue, she's always worn that well._ Ridge mentally sketched a sheath dress that would flatter her athletic physique in the same breath that he was turning away to consider additions to his current client's cache. His thoughts sprinted ahead on multiple parallel tracks at once.

The faint aroma of Brooke's perfume disrupted his train of thought. Not unpleasantly but altogether intrusively. _She's behind me._ He dug his thumb into the furrow in his brow trying to relieve the headache threatening to roar to life beneath his frontal bone.

Brooke peered over his shoulder at his sketches, oddly setting his teeth on edge. He hadn't liked how they'd left things, although she didn't seem bothered by it.

"Wasn't your fitting cancelled?"

Ridge etched a harmless pencil stroke along the one-shouldered bodice of the gown.

"Katie agreed to act as a proxy for my client."

"How convenient," Brooke remarked, archly.

Rick agreed, lurking at Ridge's back and to his left. "We have models for this."

"Katie's available and willing. It might as well be her."

"I could do it."

Ridge shifted his focus from his sketchpad to catch Brooke's eyes. He couldn't spot an ulterior motive, not that that precluded her from having one. He knew that he could be oblivious where Brooke's less than stellar qualities were concerned.

"What I mean is, Katie's obviously very busy at Spencer. She stopped by for coffee, right? That's half an hour. Fittings can take hours, you're known for that."

"The curse of a perfectionist."

"That's what you always called it." They shared a smile.

Ridge turn when Caroline leaned into the open to throw up the all ready sign.

"Katie's already in wardrobe, she can handle it. It'll be twenty minutes."

When Katie stepped onto the runway she seemed unsure where to put her hands. She was smiling tremulously at the assemblage of Forrester personnel that had follow Ridge and the others to the showroom. Ridge met her eyes to give her someone to focus on. _Look at me. They don't matter._

Her shaky smile firmed, she stood straighter and her walk grew steadier. She'd said once that she found being the center of attention to be a mixed bag. He swore this would be better.

The skirt moved flawlessly, loose enough to allow for free range of motion without losing shape. The stitching held—no immediate wardrobe malfunctions in evidence. Ridge breathed a sigh of relief.

The deep blue of the fabric offset the color of Katie's eyes, lending them a slightly green cast under the showroom's fluorescent lights.

_Was she always this beautiful?_ He didn't know, he hadn't been watching her when there was Brooke or Taylor or any number of women on his mind. _How did all of us miss her?_

She reached the end of the runway with her hands on her hips.

"What do you think of the dress?"

"I love it."

"It looks good on you."

Katie swished the broom skirt around her legs. "It's light, travels well." She spun on her heel. "It's a little snug in the hips."

Ridge tipped his head and took a step back to look at the whole picture objectively.

"You've got her beat for curves."

"That better be a compliment."

"How could it be anything else? You make that dress look perfect when it isn't."

Ridge stepped up to the side of the runway. "May I," he gestured toward the hem.

"Be my guest."

Ridge mentally measured the asymmetrical fall of the skirt against his notes on his client's height. _She's an inch or so under Katie's height, wears platform heels to compensate._ He followed the sweep of the fabric to the curve of Katie's waist, cupping her ribs as she sighed. _Slimmer than Katie, possibly even slimmer than at her last visit._ He gave the bodice a light tug._ The fabric has good give._

"What's the verdict," she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"You can wear the hell out of a dress."

"Not exactly what I had in mind."

"It's true. You look good."

"Do you talk to all your dress forms like this?"

"None of them knock me out like you do." Ridge wasn't the type to let a compliment go unspoken.

Katie had no verbal response to that.

He turned her toward him. "How's the sheer panel in front? Is it heavy, scratchy, how is it working for you?"

She touched the pale shimmery cloth insert that covered the skin revealed by the dress's plunging neckline. The aspiring starlet likely wouldn't have much use for a modesty panel, but Ridge had thought to include it in anyway. Since Katie could be of any two minds about her scar depending on the day, its inclusion had worked out nicely.

"It's fine. It doesn't itch, it's not too heavy. Like the rest of the dress, it's pretty much perfect."

"It's only as good as the person wearing it," he noted. "How's the back of the dress?"

Katie reached behind her to adjust the fit. "Mm, it rides up."

"The hip thing, got it." Ridge filed Katie's measurements in the back of his mind for later. One never knew when inspiration might strike. "I think I'm done with this one. Final thoughts?"

"Where can I get one?"

"Christmas is in nine months."

"My birthday is in two." She held up as many fingers to make her point.

"Not subtle."

"Men don't understand subtle, women have to spell things out for them."

"We'll see," he retorted, cryptically. He wanted to do something for her, but it wasn't this. The silhouette would come to him eventually. "You up for one more?"

Katie swept her hair over one shoulder to finger comb the curls.

"Try on another stunning Forrester original? I think I can force myself to endure, for a friend." She was dazzling with that smile of hers. _God, I could kiss her._

Ridge coughed to cover his internal lapse of judgment.

"That's generous of you."

He called Caroline back from Hope's side. "We're doing dress two. I want you to take her backstage and outfit her with the works. I want to see jewelry, shoes, get Charmaine to mess with her hair a little bit. This dress is off-white, it'll need a little help to pop."

"I'm all about pop, leave it to me."

Caroline hopped up onstage to escort Katie to the dressing area.

Ridge was making additional modifications to his sketch of the blue racerback dress when he felt Rick approaching from behind. He'd know his brother's ambling stride anywhere.

"You wanted to weigh in, hit me."

"The color's great."

"Peacock blue. It skews green when lights strikes it just right and that adds an element of drama to the dress when it's worn by the right person."

"It fits Katie like a glove," Rick remarked as an aside. Ridge sensed a hint of implication. _The Logan genes are strong in this one._ Ridge was far from in the mood for round three of the third degree.

"She has similar measurements to my client. Do we have a problem?"

"Not yet."

Ridge grunted. He'd rather loiter in raging silence than try to hold a conversation under these conditions.

Caroline rushed out of the fitting room in fit of admiring pique. "You've been holding out on me, mister."

Ridge cocked his eyebrow in question.

"That dress is phenomenal. My next wedding, you're my guy."

"I'll make a note of it." He did, mostly to get on Rick's nerves.

Rick coughed. "Something I should know about?"

She poked him in the shoulder. "I'm putting you on notice. If I don't get the wedding of my dreams one day, complete with heartstopping gown by Forrester, I'm gonna a find a man who'll give it to me."

Rick took her hand and kissed her wedding ring. "Consider me duly notified."

"Good." Caroline suddenly clutched Rick's arm. "Look, here she comes."

Ridge turned from his brother's marital spectacle to see what his muse had for him next.

Katie appeared in the vestibule, a vision in ivory. In her hands she carried a bundle of blaue blumen bound by a braided chord the same color as her dress.

Her normally long hair curled softly just below her chin in a bob. Her eyes were piercing against the white backdrop, positively glowing in harmony with her bouquet. Katie had come into her own as a mature woman far into the past, yet it only now that Ridge _felt_ that knowledge like punch drunkenness after a first kiss. _I'm in trouble._

Katie strolled down the runway, her steps light and measured in comfort, as though she were striding down a street and not the runway of one of the most revered fashion houses in the Western world. This was the Katie he had come to know; she was no faint-hearted damsel in need of a knight. _N'est pas une fille délicate, mais une femme dangereuse. Merde !_ Fabrice would have mocked him for the dumb look that must have been on his face.

Ridge swallowed his epiphany, there was work to be done.

"How do you feel?"

Katie stroked the criss-cross ruching of the dress's chiffon bodice.

"Pretty." She shrugged. "Who am I kidding, I feel like…like the most beautiful woman in all the world." Her smile was luminous. Ridge noticed that she didn't look to the crowd standing at the back of the showroom. _She and Brooke still aren't on good terms._ He felt guilty at how little he'd done to facilitate a reunion between them.

"You definitely look the part. I think you should keep it." He knew it was true when he said it and not a second a before.

"What? No! Oh no, I couldn't. Your client paid for it."

"My client paid for a wardrobe and she'll have one. I've been working on a couple of backups in case this one flopped in the final fitting. You're effervescent in that dress, I can't in good conscience give that to her knowing she'll never look as good in it as you do. It's yours if you want it. Just say the word."

Katie looked into his eyes as if she was searching for something. He didn't know what but it appeared that whatever she found satisfied her.

"Yes."

"That's settled, then."

He climbed onto the runway to get a closer look at his handiwork.

"If I didn't know I'd designed it, I wouldn't believe it."

"I would. You're amazing."

"So are you."

Ridge fingered a stray lock of hair that kissed her jaw.

"Is this is curl under or a cut?"

Katie pulled a concealed clip from behind her ear, bringing the foreshortened curl tumbling over his hand to its true length.

"I wasn't ready to commit to a haircut that drastic."

"You could pull it off."

"Nobody should be this believable while being this full of it."

Ridge gestured to her ensemble, baubles and all. "Who knows more about style than a fashion designer? You're a beautiful woman, you'd have to work to come across otherwise, regardless of your haircut."

Katie accepted the compliment. "If I ever find myself in need of a pep talk, I know just who to call."

"Making women feel their best comes with the job description, but I have to say you make it easy."

Pausing once more to take in his work, he found there was no sense in denying it. This frock had no place on the red carpet.

_I designed a wedding dress in Katie's image._

He didn't know what to think about that.

"I'll get you a garment bag for the dress."

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you. This is one of _the_ nicest gifts anyone's ever given me."

"Eh, it's not a diamond tennis bracelet."

"I've got a safe full of diamonds, they don't mean a thing. I like gifts that have meaning." She rubbed the gauzy draping of the A-line skirt between her fingers. "But I have no idea what to do with what's essentially a wedding dress." She'd picked up in one fitting what he hadn't in weeks of alterations.

"Save it for a rainy day. You're going to fall in love again eventually—with somebody worthy of your affection next time—and you'll be ready."

"One less thing to worry about on the big day."

"One less reason to be afraid of jumping the broom with both feet."

"I'm not sure even a Forrester original can make me feel that certain of myself."

"What about a Forrester? I'll be there with you. Whoever the lucky SOB is, I'll be right there to back your play, no matter what. You've earned that."

"You are one in a million."

"Tell that to my ex-wives."

"They know."

"You sure about that?" His being on decent terms with both now didn't negate fraught years passed.

"Brooke used to tell me you made her feel like the only woman in the world when the two of you were together, and the way you looked at Taylor, it was like she hung the moon. I can't think of one woman who wouldn't sacrifice a little dignity to be adored."

"You're the exception, you don't have to sacrifice anything since I already adore you. Some relationships are as easy as that."

"I wouldn't know."

"You'll see." Ridge scratched his ear, ready to move on to something that felt less telling. "I'm famished. What do you say we grab some lunch?"

Katie glanced at Brooke where she was communing with Rick and the others in the corner. Ridge had successfully dodged this meeting.

"Are you sure you don't want to take this chance to have lunch with Brooke?"

"Nah, she already ate. I want to eat with you, it'll give us time to catch up. You can vent about the Board again."

"I don't complain _that_ much."

Ridge tipped his hand back and forth in a middling gesture.

"Okay, but they're really aggravating."

"I'm sure they are. If it bothered me, I wouldn't be inviting you to share a meal with me. I know what I'm getting myself into."

"Who am I to resist such a welcome invite? I'll go get changed."

"I'll wade into the lions' den and see what the lions have to say."

"Play nicely," Katie cautioned.

"No promises." He squeezed her hand to see her off. "Hurry back."

Ridge hopped off the stage where Rick and Brooke were waiting.

"First things first. I'd say the fitting went well. I've got a couple of other garments I wanna lay out for my client, but they can wait until we meet next week. The ivory dress is out, the blue is in."

Rick frowned. "I liked both."

"The white's for Katie. You saw her, she looked like a dream in it; I can't sell that to another woman. The blue is still in play for the time being."

"I'm not sure I agree."

"Couture is what I do. I've met my client, I've met Katie. Trust me, she doesn't best Katie."

Brooked decided to make her feelings known.

"Ridge knows what he's talking about, honey. If he says Katie wore it better, who are we to argue?"

Ridge wavered on the spot. "…Thanks."

Rick shrugged. "If you think you can produce another gown equal or better than the one you're giving away, go for it, but this I'll definitely have to see." With that parting shot, he left Ridge and Brooke to their uneasy silence. Ridge waited for the other shoe to drop.

"A Ridge Forrester original is some gift. She must have been a very good friend to earn that."

_There it is._

"She is a good friend, she's an all-around good person. But that isn't why I gave her the dress. I gave it to her because I knew immediately that nobody could wear it better. That's a fact."

"It's not like you gave anybody else a chance. Maya's right over there," Brooke nodded toward where Maya was consorting with Oliver over his camera. He might have photographed Katie, Ridge didn't know.

"It's like I said before, Katie was the best candidate."

"I'm sure she was."

Ridge exhaled deeply. "Logan, that wasn't intended as a slight to you, it had nothing to do with you."

"Didn't it?"

Katie returned from backstage, her business casual elegance restored.

"I can't have this conversation right now. I'm going to lunch—but thank you for earlier. It was …nice."

…

After his aborted lunch with Katie, Ridge went to his bolthole in the Hollywood Hills to think over his predicament.

_Brooke looked me in the eye and told me a lie._ This was what had felt wrong between them since he'd come home. She'd been obscuring salient details by telling the truth. If he had thought to dig that much deeper, he'd have uncovered all this weeks ago.

"None of this felt right."

Nothing had since he returned home. This was the reason why. Every encounter that seemed peppered with honesty was run through with mistruths. He had felt that and that feeling in his gut told him to keep his distance until he was sure. Ridge had had lived with a lot of uncertainty in this last sixteen months, he wasn't up to facing more with the rest of his life to lose, or worse, to waste.

_I can't do this anymore._

Ridge didn't need time, he needed to tell Brooke. He'd give her that courtesy.

He arrived at Brooke's after a long drive where the wind was the only station on the radio. He sat outside until he'd hammered out the words he wanted to say exactly. He walked to her door thinking he was prepared for anything, but what he wasn't prepared for was Hurricane Katie.

They collided painfully not twenty feet from his destination.

He swore, staggered backward and only just managed to keep them both from meeting the ground.

"Whoa, slow down. Where're you off to in such a hurry?"

Katie backed up, wiping her face ineffectually. Her shoulders shook under the strain of trying not to cry. "Just to my car. I have a meeting, and then I need to make dinner for Will."

Ridge was skeptical as to whether she could find her car with those tears in her eyes.

He faltered, wanting to fix something but unsure if he could. "You look…You don't look good. You shouldn't be driving in that condition."

Katie flapped a hand at his objection. "I'm okay. Just something Brooke said."

Ridge had some choice words of his own for the woman in question, but those could wait. Ridge knew he and Brooke had much to talk about in the coming months, but he wasn't up to the task today. Katie needed him. It was time he stood by the people who seemed determined to stand by him.

"It's always something. Come on, let me take you somewhere."

**…**

Ridge drove Katie back to Brooke's to pick up her car after an hour sitting on the hood of his. She was quiet for most of the trip, folded into the passenger seat staring out at the view. He thought she must have been all cried out over whatever had hurt her. He wasn't positive that was an improvement. _Sometimes you're too tired to cry anymore, it's more than enough to just keep going._

"You all right over there?"

She sniffed and turned to look at him. "I'm okay. I'm…pulling it together. She doesn't even know when she's twisting the knife in. I probably seem like a basket case every time she and I have a conversation. She's Brooke and she thinks she's harmless."

"She doesn't think that. She'd like to, but she doesn't. Don't let her fool you."

"This act she puts on about how remorseful she is gets under my skin. All I can hear is people telling me to just let this go, to forgive and forget and move on. They don't see how much I'm trying."

Ridge took the curve of the mountain road to Brooke's slow and easy as he considered his next words.

"I see it. I've seen it from my first day back."

"That makes you a party of one." She rubbed her eyes and slumped back to watch the road ahead.

"Nobody likes to hear that the healing process for hurts we cause is long and slow and riddled with setbacks. We like to hear that somebody got over it in a day, so they'll love us again like we're used to."

She pillowed her head on her hand. "That's not real life; people aren't rubber made to last. They can be wounded beyond repair or forgiveness."

"Yes, they can," he acceded. "Brooke hasn't accepted that yet. She'll have to."

"So I should give her time?"

"You don't have to give her anything you don't want to."

"She has everything already."

"She doesn't have me."

Katie gave him an anemic smile that was nothing compared to what she was capable of.

"That's not a coup if you get hurt, too."

"My feelings aren't what's important here. Yours are." Ridge was still trying to parse his own; he'd have to before he and Brooke spoke next.

They pulled behind Katie's car in the round outside Brooke's place. Katie was out of the passenger seat before Ridge could come around to let her out.

Katie hesitated at the foot of the path to Brooke's door as if she might try again.

"I don't even know what I'd say to her. I might tell her I forgive her or I might tell her to get out of my life and never darken my doorway again. I'm not sure which is worse."

Ridge rubbed her shoulders in solidarity. "Don't make a decision on a heavy heart. Come back another day when you're feeling more in control."

"She shouldn't be able to hurt me like this. I'm forty-three years old with a son and a job millions—billions of people would kill for. And yet, she makes a crack and I feel like a gangly six-year-old in glasses with Brooke and Donna's hand-me-downs, as if _nothing's_ changed."

Ridge turned her from Brooke's door.

"Forget what Brooke said, listen to what I'm saying: You're a special person. You can be loved, you _will_ be loved by someone who will honor and cherish you."

"I thought I was." The turmoil in her voice caused a painful twist in his chest.

"I'll give Spencer the benefit of the doubt. He really loved you, I believe that. He just didn't love you as much as he loved himself, and that's the rub. It may have involved a different woman, but this was always going to come down to narcissism. You just got unlucky enough to be stuck in the middle."

Katie swiped her hair from her eyes. "I don't care what he does anymore or who he chases or who _she_ chases, I just want to be okay again."

He kissed her forehead and pulled her into his arms.

"You'll be okay, and you'll loved, I promise."

Ridge realized at this very moment that Brooke was wrong. Trying to do the right thing wasn't enough._ You have to _do_ the right thing._ And that was what Ridge intended to do, whatever it took and however long. He only had one life to live, he was sure now who just he wanted to share it with.


End file.
